Locked Out!
It was the coldest morning of the year last Thursday in the Greater Rochester area. Zero degrees, not factoring in the wind chill. The snow crackled and crunched when it was stepped on. This was a morning Jan got up early to lift weights in our basement. I woke up to the clacking of the weights as Jan lowered them on the machine.
With my flannel pajamas, heavy wool calf length socks and a thick bathrobe, I staggered down the stairs. The coffee was ready and I just had to pick up the newspaper from our sidewalk. As the storm door slammed behind me it was just four steps to the paper. The air took my breath away. I grabbed the door handle, it was stuck. I yanked hard, then harder. It wouldn't open. The g'damn door froze in less than four seconds. How was that possible?
A quick look down the street, no one seemed to notice me outside, fortunately the morning running club had come and gone and the neighbors were warm and cozy in their homes. I yanked the door more with no luck.
Then I rang the doorbell. Jan had to hear that, surely she would rescue me, though I would have to put up with the laughter. Five seconds, ten, no Jan. G'damn it was cold out. Panicking I kept ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door. Still Jan didn't come open the door. What was I going to do?
Finally after an eternity, by some miracle, or maybe more due to my foot smashing the door over and over, the frozen seal broke and the door popped open. I ran to the kitchen and guzzled the coffee, glad to be alive and not frozen in my bathrobe on the front steps.
Jan swore she never heard the doorbell or pounding since the television was up so loud and the weights were smashing together.
Lesson learned. Never go outside in flannel without propping the door open so I can get back in the house.
With my flannel pajamas, heavy wool calf length socks and a thick bathrobe, I staggered down the stairs. The coffee was ready and I just had to pick up the newspaper from our sidewalk. As the storm door slammed behind me it was just four steps to the paper. The air took my breath away. I grabbed the door handle, it was stuck. I yanked hard, then harder. It wouldn't open. The g'damn door froze in less than four seconds. How was that possible?
A quick look down the street, no one seemed to notice me outside, fortunately the morning running club had come and gone and the neighbors were warm and cozy in their homes. I yanked the door more with no luck.
Then I rang the doorbell. Jan had to hear that, surely she would rescue me, though I would have to put up with the laughter. Five seconds, ten, no Jan. G'damn it was cold out. Panicking I kept ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door. Still Jan didn't come open the door. What was I going to do?
Finally after an eternity, by some miracle, or maybe more due to my foot smashing the door over and over, the frozen seal broke and the door popped open. I ran to the kitchen and guzzled the coffee, glad to be alive and not frozen in my bathrobe on the front steps.
Jan swore she never heard the doorbell or pounding since the television was up so loud and the weights were smashing together.
Lesson learned. Never go outside in flannel without propping the door open so I can get back in the house.
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